


to the stars who listen

by CalumSmiles (dreamforlife)



Series: something about islands [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Idiots in Love, It's Hard and Nobody Understands, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Supportive Michael and Luke, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, it's complicated - Freeform, it's hawaii cashton but on steroids, not really though because they know they're in love but, there's something about cashton and islands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamforlife/pseuds/CalumSmiles
Summary: It’s a California king, bigger, and sunk into a circular white-leather frame which is fitted to the floor facing the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and the ocean view beyond. The sun is just beginning to set and the room is bathed in red-rose-gold, setting it alight.He watches Calum glance at the bed and then at him, a smirk curled into his cheek beneath a dimple, and Ashton arches an eyebrow.“Problem?” He asks.Calum whips the towel off his shoulders and dives into the mattress, sprawling across with a heady smile. “Dunno, you got one?”His shorts are slipping down the curve of his ass, hems hiked up on his thighs, and the setting sun turns his skin into warm gold, the length of his back and long legs exposed to him. Ashton forgets himself for a minute as he stares.When he comes back to, Calum is openly snickering at him.~~~Or, Hawaii tripped them over into acknowledging what was brewing between them but with their lives and the kind of overthinking Ashton has made into a hobby, nothing really happens. Another trip to an island, the Caribbean this time, makes Ashton confront his own feelings. Calum just wants to tell Ashton he's loved if Ashton will only let him.
Relationships: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin
Series: something about islands [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697818
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	to the stars who listen

**Author's Note:**

> This is by no means a continuation of "message in a bottle" where Cashton fall in love in Hawaii, it's a standalone fic about Cashton going on a holiday to Turks and Caicos after Ashton said in a concert that they were going on a "honeymoon". I created a series because apparently islands and Cashton are synonymous and I always happen to write a fic about it. 
> 
> Anyways, I started writing this almost as soon as this trip happened and that clip from the concert came out with the honeymoon comment because I couldn't resist. But it's been what feels like years now and I'm finally getting around to finishing this. It's been a labour of love and I'm so glad it's finally coming together as a short-chaptered fic.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

Ashton thinks that maybe they could have been a little more subtle. Or, rather, _he_ could have. But maybe it was the adrenalin or maybe it was that fire-bright sparkle in Calum’s eyes as they reflected the brassy gleam off the top-hat, but the words had come tumbling out of his mouth.

Blame what he might, in the end, it had been him. The up-turned corners of his mouth and the microphone curled in his hand, the stupid silly _longing_ words like _honeymoon_ and _Calum and me_ that had come tumbling out of him. That was all him.

Calum had caught his eye afterwards, a small arch of an eyebrow and sharp flash of a canine before he had turned away to the keyboard, wiping a grin into the back of his hand. Ashton had felt like an idiot but the ache in his chest had kept him floating anyway. He finds a girl in the front row watching him with such a clear, familiar expression of exasperated amusement that he wonders if he knows her. Because Luke is shooting him the same look over his shoulder in that very moment and Ashton ignores him in favour of their next song.

Later, long after they had swept off the stage, Calum had brushed past, his breath warm against Ashton’s ear as he’d murmured, “better start planning,” and Ashton’s whole body had gone hot and then cold, chills turning his knees to jelly, before he had shot a look heavenward for strength to keep walking. Michael had taken one look at him when he walked into the dressing room before chuckling and pressing a beer into his hand.

“Maybe not Hawaii, this time,” was all the advice he’d given, quiet and amused.

But now, here they were. Finally.

Away again, leaving Los Angeles and chasing the wind.

It wouldn’t be Hawaii this time, no. Michael was right. It had been torture, the tension between them heavy-sweet like caramel on his tongue, a single kiss on the balcony in the flickering firelight from the distant torches on the beach and a smile pressed into a dimple on their last night. Calum’s hands had been warm, fingertips steady and sure as they traced the tattoos along Ashton’s wrists, on the back of his neck. His lips soft, so soft as they brushed along a cheekbone.

Ashton’s cheek tingles as he thinks about it. He tries to make the gesture casual as he lifts a hand to brush away the fleeting touch of memory but Calum’s smile catches the sunlight spilling in through the small aeroplane window. There’s a mild, rosy blush to the curve of those beautiful cheeks. Like he _knows_ what’s going through Ashton’s head. 

He wants to kiss him so badly it blinds him suddenly, anticipation and that stupid craving he thought he had beaten to submission bursting through him again. They had kissed, just once, on the fringes of a beach somewhere in Kauai what feels like years ago. Ashton doesn’t know how he made it this long without just curling a hand into Calum’s shirt one day and kissing him until he filled his senses.

Calum is watching him now like he wants him to, like Calum would climb into his lap right there in the cabin of this passenger jet if it wouldn’t get them in trouble. Like kissing Ashton here and now is everything he ever wanted.

So Ashton lifts a hand, gives in just enough to temptation and the slow burn of longing in his veins, shifts in his seat and brushes a thumb over the heated skin, down until he tugs the flushed lip out from between teeth.

Calum lets him touch, eyes glued to Ashton even though Ashton is following his fingers across Calum’s face, gaze brimming with something that is impossible to put into words, something that settles in a bright, humming ball right between Ashton’s lungs.

He is relieved, somewhere in the back of his head, that business class affords them some modicum of privacy. They are at the front of the cabin behind the cockpit, there is no gap between the raised backs of their seats and somehow, _somehow_ by some measure of luck, the row across the aisle has just one sleeping passenger.

Only when Ashton finally sits back and takes his hands off Calum does Calum finally speak. Which is for the best anyway, given that Ashton can barely make out his surroundings on a good day if he’s got his hands on Calum.

“I’m a sure thing, you know that right?”

Ashton’s eyes snap up to catch those sunlit whiskey eyes. “Yeah, I…” He struggles with the words crowding his throat, breath catching. “Yeah,” he says finally.

Eloquent on most days, a wordsmith of sorts on others, Ashton’s mastery of the English language in recent years hasn’t been tenuous in the least. He had found music and lyrics and his thoughts stream out on a brooding mental melody into interviews, into Instagram captions, into songs. But put him in the path of those eyes and he’ll stumble as easy as a toddler through their alphabet.

Calum grins a little then, hint of a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “And you are too.”

It’s not a question.

But, he supposes, it doesn’t need to be.

Ashton’s been a sure thing for a long time. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and wonders if this, this plane cabin surrounded by strangers, is the place for this conversation. It feels too much like an epiphany for something he’s carried with him for so long.

“Yeah,” is all he can say again, overwhelmed. That little ball between his lungs surges and fills his chest until it pulses to the beat of his heart.

Calum seems to glow. “Then we’ll be fine.” He stays quiet for a moment, lets the drone of the engines fill the silence until he speaks again. “Honeymoon, you said? We missed a few steps, Ash.” His grin is staggering to Ashton’s overactive brain. “I don’t see no ring on my finger.”

They aren’t dating, not really. Not at all, given there has been no conversation about it. Maybe it’s implicit with the way they’ve been living their lives, with not much room for anyone else. They hadn’t said those three words yet although they burn high in Ashton’s throat on a daily basis too often for it to be safe. _I love you._ They’ve thrown the words around, choked to the brim with platonic sentiment and yelled across rooms, stages, half-cocked _love ya Cal!_ and _love you Ash!_ mixed in with parting goodbyes and hugs that linger just too long. But the _I love you_ that winches his chest tight when Calum rambles about their music or yawns his way through a movie at eight p.m. never quite manages to slip through.

He wants to say it. He wants to give those words to Calum. But he can’t. Not yet. Terror beats a steady drum in his head.

Ashton huffs a laugh instead of saying any of that because its messy and bleeds and gets emotions everywhere. “Shut up. It just slipped out. It’s your fault, anyway.”

“My fault? What the fuck, I was just _standing_ there.”

“Yeah! That’s my fucking point!”

Calum bursts out laughing but his eyes are burning with a sure-fire when he looks at him. “Whatever you say, Ash. Whatever you say.”

Oh, but Ashton wants to say so much. But the words strangle him and all he can do is squeeze Calum’s fingers and close his eyes against the sun. He thinks Calum knows anyway. He always does.

 _Through heaven and high water._

*

The salt in the air settles the unnerved tingle down his spine. The itch under his skin finally melts as they step out of the small airport into the warm ocean breeze. The pleasant sounds of paradise soothe away the grating hum of LA out of his head.

Ashton takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, shoulders lowering as tension bleeds out and the heat of the sun sinks deep to warm his soul. He can feel the strain around his eyes soften and his ears pop beautifully.

The gleam of coral blue water as they had approached the runway had let him relax into his seat, relieved that they had finally left LA and he’d managed to run away with Calum once again without anyone knowing where they had gone (for the moment, anyway). But now, standing here and seeing the Caribbean sky stretch away into the horizons around them, the nervous coil in his stomach calms into the usual flutter of Calum’s presence beside him.

Calum is watching him with a fond smile when he opens his eyes, a hand curled around the strap of his duffel and the other settled on his hip. His eyes are squinted against the glare of the sun off the white sidewalk, lips chapped and pink. The heat had already pinched a flush into his cheeks and Ashton wants to push him into that signpost behind him and kiss his pretty mouth. He has no right to stand there looking like every single one of Ashton’s wildest dreams brought to life.

“You finally look like you might have fun on this _honeymoon,_ ” Calum says and his smile sharpens a little when Ashton jolts at the word.

Ashton huffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna marry the hell out of you someday,” he mutters under his breath, heading toward the airport-to-hotel shuttles.

He can’t hold back the grin as Calum chokes on the gum he’s chewing. Maybe he had been a little louder than he had meant to be.

“That’s fucking unfair!” Calum yells after him, jogging to catch up. “You can’t say shit like that.”

Ashton flashes his teeth at him as they approach a taxi. “Pretty sure I can.”

“And if that was a proposal, so fucking help me, Ashton. I expect roses and candles and _diamonds._ All the fucking diamonds. I am not cheap.”

He says nothing, grinning still, cheeks stretched too wide. For all that he is, materialistic is not a trait Calum could ever be accused of. Calum scowls but the rosy flush on his cheeks betrays him, the nervous tic of his teeth pressing into his lip gives him away. Ashton presses their shoulders together for a moment before they are welcomed by a driver.

It’s a little unnerving that he can joke about marriage when he is incapable of saying three words to Calum’s face. It should be simple, but something about it freezes his vocal cords. Something about it makes it feel too real, too raw. Makes it vulnerable. Makes _him_ vulnerable. He’s sure Calum knows, has known for a while, but Ashton doesn’t know how to let go of his own fear. 

As they swing out onto the road snaking between massive properties towards the southern end of Providenciales, Calum sneaks a picture of Ashton staring out over the water and when Ashton tries to grumble, Calum waves him away.

“That’s for the wedding album,” he says.

Ashton aims a half-hearted elbow at unprotected ribs but lets Calum settle under his arm as he ducks across him to stare out the window himself. He really hopes the exorbitant amount he spent to book this villa for themselves will be worth it because he wants to keep that sparkle in Calum’s eyes. 

Several messages from Luke shake him out of an indulgent daydream of Calum laying on a deck chair, golden in the sun, wet hair curling against his neck.

As he opens up the messages, he reminds himself for the fiftieth time to change the contact name back to Luke’s actual name after Michael had stolen it and changed everything to ridiculous nicknames on April Fools. Although he can’t make himself change Calum’s one, as ridiculous as it is. Why Michael had thought _Wifey_ would somehow be appropriate is beyond him. Really, it’s completely outrageous. Totally ridiculous. And untrue.

_From: Piggy’s Momager_

_Word’s out, chief_

_But you’ve been “spotted” in the Maldives and the Bahamas_

_And weirdly some dude tweeted he’d seen y’all in Sorrento_

_Use protection ;-) ;-) ;-)_

_Hemmo out_

Ashton snorts to himself, gaze flicking to Calum quickly, still sprawled across his lap and gazing at the surroundings with infectious excitement. His lips twitch.

_To: Piggy’s Momager_

_Thanks. Fuck off._

_Don’t forget about Duke. His food is on the fourth shelf in the cupboard above the oven in Cal’s place._

_There’s a spare key to his under the cutlery tray in the drawer in my kitchen._

_And remind Mike about the party_

Given that it’s their second day off and it’s about eight in the morning in LA, Ashton is pleasantly surprised that Luke is awake enough to reply immediately.

_From: Piggy’s Momager_

_Duke’s sleeping on Petunia._

_He’s fine, DAD. I know how to look after a dog._

_Right…the spare key that I definitely don’t know about_

_Stop micromanaging, jeeZUS_

_Mike and I can handle a couple events without you_

_Pay attention to bae_

_Lick him or something_

_To: Piggy’s Momager_

_See if I ever tell you anything ever again_

_Stop snooping through my shit_

_Also remember you’ve got that thing with John tomorrow_

_From: Piggy’s Momager_

_Cutlery drawer. Not exactly where Blackbeard hid his treasure_

_GOODFUCKINGBYE ASHTON_

Ashton rolls his eyes. Rude.

He meets the eyes of a woman sitting on the other side of the van aisle when he looks up and she smiles softly, nodding her chin at Calum with a warmth in her eyes.

Ashton blinks at her and flushes when she grins.

When she looks away to her own partner, Ashton looks down at the fluffy head of hair below his chin, Calum still staring out the window with awed eyes, and curls his fingers into the back of Calum’s shirt before settling his head against the headrest and closing his eyes.

*

The villa is nestled in a private plot of land on Sunset Point, surrounded by native jungle-like plants that just manages to give the feeling of complete isolation.

Calum’s eyes are saucers by the time they walk through the gates and into the driveway.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers.

Ashton has to agree. He had booked the place after seeing pictures. Nothing could capture the sheer extravagance of their sprawling home for the next ten days. There’s a sudden physical punch in his gut at the reminder of the gaping hole in his bank account.

Crimson cascades of bougainvillaea spill over the square sun-bleached walls, the iridescent green of its leaves a striking contrast. Clean lines and contemporary fittings, the villa looks like something out a fantasy Ashton once had when he was seventeen and desperate to get out of the wastelands of his hometown. It’s enormous, way too much for two people, but it promises them the privacy they crave after months of tour.

He almost wishes Michael and Luke were here to see this. Almost.

Inside, the entrance expands into a massive open-plan kitchen and living room in an explosion of light, the sun pouring in through the glass doors leading onto the wooden deck. It reminds him of Zedd’s place, airy and open, full of light and life, touches of personality in the geometric shapes and indulgent materials of minimalist decor.

The pool sparkles a rich blue, the water deep and inviting. Beyond, the ocean stretches into the horizon, clear turquoise waves meeting a cloud-flecked sky.

Ashton sucks in a breath as his duffel slides off a shoulder and thumps to the white-tiled floor. He walks numbly onto the deck. It’s hot, the breeze caressing his cheek and brushing across his clothes with warm, sticky fingers.

The deck is massive, stretching from the embedded infinity pool to an outdoor table to the sun lounges lined along the railing on the other side. There is more bougainvillaea draped over a white trellis, deep red and snow-white, and twin palms frame a small staircase going below the main deck.

Ashton leans over the railing to look down. The stairs lead to a smaller decked area just above sea level, with umbrellas, two big day beds and a canvas stretched over an open portion of the deck. He can see that turning into a trampoline in the immediate future and hopes the water is deep enough that they don’t break their necks.

There’s a yell from inside.

Ashton looks over his shoulder as Calum comes tearing out of the house, shirtless already with a grin splitting his face, and he crashes into Ashton with the force of a summer hurricane, pressing into every inch of his body, barely-contained glee vibrating through him.

He grins, hooks his chin over a bare shoulder and returns the hug.

“This is fucking _insane,”_ Calum says, pulling away. He gapes at their surroundings, shading his eyes as he looks out over the bright sea. “Ash…” The bubbling energy dims for a moment when Calum catches his gaze. Ashton feels like all the air’s been knocked out of him as the sun hits those eyes and turn them molten. “Thanks.”

He smiles.

Totally worth the fucking abyss in his savings if Calum keeps looking at him like that for the rest of this trip. Maybe for the rest of their lives. 

Calum takes a running leap into the pool with a resounding whoop that echoes over the ocean and Ashton is already ripping off his shirt to follow him right in.

*

There are five separate bedroom suites.

So obviously, Calum follows him into the enormous master suite on the second floor and dumps his bag on the right-hand side of the bed, grin still firmly held in place. Ashton grins to himself, something like relief loosening his chest. So they were sleeping together then. _Just_ sleeping, thank you.

The room is huge, with a walk-in closet the size of a small boutique and a bathroom with a shower big enough for five full-grown men and a roomy shower bench carved into one wall.

Ashton tries not to let it give him any ideas.

The bed doesn’t let him pretend.

It’s a California king, _bigger_ , and sunk into a circular white-leather frame which is fitted to the floor facing the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and the ocean view beyond. The sun is just beginning to set and the room is bathed in red-rose-gold, setting it alight.

He watches Calum glance at the bed and then at him, a smirk curled into his cheek beneath a dimple, and he arches an eyebrow.

“Problem?” He asks.

Calum whips the towel off his shoulders and dives into the mattress, sprawling across with a heady smile. “Dunno, you got one?”

His shorts are slipping down the curve of his ass, hems hiked up on his thighs, and the setting sun turns his skin into warm gold, the length of his back and long legs exposed to him. Ashton forgets himself for a minute as he stares.

When he comes back to, suddenly and with a pop in his ears, Calum is openly snickering at him. He refuses to blush.

“You’re fucking gorgeous and you fucking know it,” he snaps at him and stalks into the bathroom to wash away the chlorine and salt stuck to his skin. “Don’t act like you’re surprised.”

Calum’s laughter, a little shy and a lot pleased, echoes behind him.

*

Waking up had been something out of a hazy dream, soft light from outside pulling them out of sleep, Ashton’s hand in Calum’s hair and Calum sprawled across the giant bed, an ankle hooked over Ashton’s shin. He had smiled, scratching his fingers through Calum’s hair, before pulling himself out of bed and having a small heart attack in the bathroom. But Calum had slipped into the kitchen later and wound himself around Ashton, mouth falling open for a bite of his fruit salad with a soft, pleading sound, and Ashton had let himself melt back into Calum’s chest and feed him the rest of his breakfast.

It had been the quietest morning they had had in a long time.

Ashton is absently flicking through the pamphlets left to them by the owner of the villa when he sees it.

Horse-riding. In the sea.

He’s is pulling a yelping Calum out the door before he even finishes reading. The stables aren’t far, a fifteen-minute walk down the road, and mid-morning greets them with open arms. Calum is giggling at his enthusiasm and Ashton just soaks in the giddy happiness he can feel bubbling inside him.

The horses are gorgeous and mildly terrifying, and of course, Calum gets lucky.

Calum’s horse has a beautiful midnight black coat, is named _Ebony,_ and has the temperament of a domestic dog, nuzzling into Calum’s shoulder and dutifully standing by as Calum climbs on with the help of the ride leader. She flicks her mane when Calum final settles into the saddle and makes a huffing noise when Calum pats her neck.

 _His_ horse, on the other hand, is the single most obstinate animal he has ever met in his entire life. And he’s met Petunia Hemmings. The stallion is stunning, a gorgeous russet-chestnut with a thin white stripe from forehead to muzzle and white socks up to the knee. But with a name like _Cliff,_ short for _Clifford_ because this is his fucking life, there was no way they wouldn’t butt heads.

The ride leader says it’ll be fine. Cliff shows his affection through scaring the shit out of people.

Ashton will believe that when he sees it.

Because Cliff holds out, not letting him near enough to mount until everyone else is waiting on him, stands still just enough for Ashton to sit in the saddle before bucking slightly backward. Ashton’s heart falls out through his ass.

Calum snaps a quick picture of him clinging to the saddle with white-knuckled hands, cackling, and says, “Mike’s gonna _love_ this.” The four other riders, clearly experienced with the way they relax in the saddle, coo at him as if he’s some damn lost puppy and Ashton wonders why he thought this would be a good idea.

The ride leader trots past with a grin. “Think he likes you.”

Ashton scowls after him and keeps a firm hold on the reins.

Cliff pays attention to the riders in front of them for a while and as they walk along the beach, Ashton turns his face up into the sun and basks in the tranquillity, the fluid movement of his body with the slow gait of Cliff beneath him, the smell of sea salt and seaweed in the air.

They fall a little behind the group as they head for open water, two of the riders so far out in the shallows, there is water up to their thighs.

“You look good like this,” Calum says from next to him.

Ashton tips his head to look at him and smiles. The wind has fluffed his hair, curling from the salt and streaked red-brown-blonde from the sun. Calum looks happy, the little crinkles by his eyes beneath his sunglasses, the soft corners of his mouth, the relaxed slouch in the saddle.

Yeah, that is why this had been a good idea. Calum looks like a _god_ in that saddle.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he says, or he tries to, gets the words mostly out, but the last word is a shriek because Cliff takes off after the group like he can’t bear to be separated from them any longer. _Asshole._

Ashton grips the reins and tries to remember what it was that he learnt that one time they had gone riding in Northern California just for the hell of it. His mind is blank and he leans down close to Cliff’s neck and prays he doesn’t die.

But Cliff just canters right into the water, sending a wave of warm water splashing over Ashton, happily flicking his mane and baring his stupid horse teeth over a shoulder in a neighing laugh like _gotcha, human._

His heart is thundering, he’s winded and soaked, and the ride leader is grimacing at Cliff but still laughing at Ashton and fine, he can see the amusement in the situation. Calum comes trotting into the water, hair blowing backwards in the wind, sunglasses glittering in the mid-morning sun, looking slightly concerned but mostly amused.

“Can we at least _try_ to get along?” Ashton asks Cliff, spitting seawater out of his mouth and trying not to gag as it drips into the back of his throat.

The horse, predictably, whinnies stubbornly at him.

“That’s what I thought you’d say, you dumb fucking horse,” Ashton mutters with a vengeance and Calum laughs so hard he tips off his own saddle into the shallow sea.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Cliff is much more like his accidental namesake than Ashton is comfortable with, cockblock and all.

Calum is still laughing, silent and quaking where he’s barely managing to stay in the saddle, as they continue along the long stretch of snow-white sand. Ashton manages to coerce his horse into getting close enough to tip Calum right back into the water.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one! Let me know your thoughts xx Thanks for reading!!


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